I had been wanting to scrap this photo, but knew it was the STORY that had to be told. Thanks for the PageKraft: WriteTrue and Click opportunity to think about and express my thoughts on my childhood home.........or at least the part of the home that holds such wonderful memories................the FRONT PORCH.
Thanks for looking and THANK YOU for reading!

This was my parent’s home for almost 50 years. The only childhood home I ever knew. There are many important memories attached to this home, but none more valuable than this front porch. This front porch is filled with memories of friendship. You see, I grew up in the 60’s and the 70’s in a neighborhood where your neighbors were like your family. Back then, there were no computers, no iphones, no texting, no twitter, and no facebook. None of that. We had something better…………..A REAL place that gathered people together and allowed friends to CONNECT with one another………A FRONT PORCH.

Each summer evening after dinner, as neighbors would head outside to water flowers, watch the kids play ball in the street, or take short walks up and down the sidewalks they would all soon begin their migrations to the porch. Some would just walk on over and others would wait for an invitation (although none was ever needed). Those walking up the street would never pass without a shout or two to someone on the porch and eventually, they too, would wander up the steps to join in a conversation.

There were several lawn chairs that had permanent homes on the porch………some of them didn’t even belong to us. They were left there by neighbors tired of hauling them each evening. Some would sit or lean on the porch rail (only adults were allowed to do this as my mother was sure if any children sat up there they were sure to fall into the bushes below!) As the gathers increased, the dining room chairs were also brought out for comfort. Late comers would make themselves comfortable on the scratchy green carpeted steps (always saying, “No, I’m good here.”) Musical chairs was played when one of the older ladies showed up late and people would move around to make sure she had one of the “good” chairs so she wouldn’t get a backache. There were always multiple conversations going on with some people talented enough to partake in more than one. The chatter usually consisted of neighborhood info and what was new, recipes, grocery prices and sales, children, illnesses, gardening tips, and cars. Nothing spectacular, just the news of today and friends catching up and sharing time together.

As dusk would set in and the street lights would come on, some would gather children for baths and bedtime and slowly make their way off the porch. Conversations would grow quiet and a few more would join the “better get going” group. Dining room chairs were put away and lawn chairs folded up and those on the steps would stand up and stretch and give a groan or two. Good-nite. Good-bye. Same place. Same time tomorrow. Same friends connecting with one another on this little front porch on Fulton Street.

Katie Pertiet
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